


i wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

by plaguehaver



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kissing, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Power Imbalance, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguehaver/pseuds/plaguehaver
Summary: A New Year's Eve party, an interrupted walk home, and few drunk kisses.





	i wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm never gonna get over Wolf 359, ugh

**January first. One A.M. Eastern Standard Time. Cape Canaveral.**

He’s in Maxwell’s tiny apartment, sitting on the floor and watching some pop singer dance around on Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve. She’s sitting across from him, rubbing her eyes and blowing a stray lock of red hair out of her face. She’s got the heater on full blast and he’s tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt. He’s sweaty and dizzy from consuming half of the giant bottle of red wine she bought for the night. He leans back on one hand and licks his lips, stares at the ceiling, at his hands, out the window, back at his hands.

“Jacobi.” 

He looks at Maxwell. “What?” 

She huffs in annoyance. “I said, do you have any threes?” 

“Oh.” Jacobi looks down at his cards. “Nope, go fish.” She sighs as she reaches down to draw a card. 

“Really, you should’ve listened to me when I tried to cut you off at midnight. This is a serious game, are you even paying attention anymore?” 

He rubs his eyes, bristles when the shitty carpet underneath him scratches his feet.

“Jacobi?”

“Hm?”

“You should probably go home.” He groans and looks back at the analog clock on her otherwise bare walls. 

“It’s only 1:03, Maxwell! Don’t kill the party.”

“ _You’re_ killing the party, stupid. You’re halfway asleep already.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Jacobi, name the seven diatomic elements.”

“Psh, easy. Helium, neon, argon, krypton, uh… xenon, radon.”

“Those were the noble gases.”

“Nuh-uh. Those were the biometric elements.”

“O- _kay_ , that’s probably enough Go Fish for tonight.” Maxwell stands up and starts to pack up the cards. 

“What,” Jacobi drawls. “You wanna play Uno?”

“No, I mean that’s probably enough _anything_ for tonight.” She picks up the empty Barefoot bottle. “I really thought that this would last us longer. Anyways, Daniel, you’re wasted. I think it’s probably time to get you home. Happy New Year was an hour ago and at this point, we’re not really doing anything productive.”

“Aw, come onnn Alana. I thought we were gonna get crossfaded!” She laughs.

“You can do that when you get home if you really want to. I’ll get you an Uber or something.”

“I can get home by myself, Alana.”

“You are _not_ driving like this.” 

“I’ll just walk then, it’s not that far.”

“You’re drunk off of your ass, you’re gonna get yourself lost or walk into traffic or something.”

He stands up. “Give me some credit. I used to be drunk for a living, you know.”

Maxwell gestures at him with the empty bottle. “Yeah. I _know_.” 

“I’m not even that drunk. Wanna see me walk in a straight line? Count to twenty? Say the alphabet backwards?”

“Jesus, how many DWI checkpoints have you gotten stopped at?” 

“Shut up. And less than you’re thinking.” Jacobi stands up and drains the last of a Diet Coke that’s sitting on the coffee table. “I swear I’ll be fine.”

“I know. You’re always fine.”

“Yep.” He pulls his coat on and then heads for the door, hesitating with his hand on the handle. “Hey, Alana?”

“Yeah?” She calls from the kitchen.

“Happy New Year.” 

She walks around the corner and smirks at him. “Don’t get sentimental on me now, you dork. And text me when you get home.”

Jacobi smiles. “Yeah. I will.” And he’s out in the quiet city air.

The cold doesn’t hit him right away. At first, it’s nice. Fat snowflakes fall lazily down as he walks out of the apartment complex and onto the streets. The ice on the road has deterred most of the drivers, leaving just Daniel and whoever else happens to be drunk enough to walk outside in such bad weather. The wind picks up, and he’s distantly grateful that he drunk enough to keep his body temperature up. He walks like that for a while, taking his time to read and decipher the street signs. It’s this turn, right? As a car passes him, he stuffs his hands in his pockets to keep them out of the wind. His ears will just have to go numb. 

It’s almost silent, outside of the crunch of snow under his feet and the engine of the car that’s… turning around, for some reason. The headlights illuminate him from behind and Jacobi turns to squint at the sleek black car with tinted windows that’s headed right for him. It doesn’t take long for the Goddard paranoia to kick in, and Jacobi realizes that he’s in no way armed. As much as he tried to convince Maxwell that he was sober, he was in no way up for another kidnapping. 

He walks a bit faster and stands away from the curb waiting for the car to pass him again, god, please just pass him again. No such luck. The car slows down, pulling to a stop next to Jacobi and as the window rolls down, he fumbles for a weapon that isn’t there.

“Mister Jacobi?” The voice makes him freeze and his blood runs even colder than it had been before.

“Colonel?” _Oh god,_ he thinks. _Don’t let him know you’re drunk._

“What the hell are you doing out at this time of night?”

 _Um,_ “I’m drunk.” _Dammit._ The colonel leans over and looks him up and down. If the flush on his face isn’t enough to give it away, his posture certainly does the job.

“You are aware that we have work tomorrow, correct?” 

“Uh, yeah. I’m going home.” 

“I thought you lived over that way.” Kepler gestures behind him, exactly opposite to the direction Jacobi had been walking.

“Oh yeah.” Kepler sighs and Jacobi hears the _click_ of the car door unlocking.

“Get in.” 

“Oh no, it’s- you don’t have to- I can get home by myself.” 

“Do _not_ make me repeat myself, Mister Jacobi.” Jacobi looks at him for a tense second before sighing.

“Yes sir.” He climbs into the passenger seat and they drive off in silence, radio off. Jacobi stares at him in the little flashes of light they get under passing streetlamps. Face steely, blond hair still perfectly styled. Jacobi shifts in his seat and focuses his attention out the window, doing his best to stay semi-conscious. Eventually, they pull into an underground parking garage and he watches Kepler swipe a card at a kiosk and then park in a space with a number on it.

“Hey, where are we?”

“My apartment. I didn’t feel like taking you home and then driving all the way back here. Also, if you sleep here, I can make sure that you actually end up at work tomorrow, inevitable hangover and all.” Kepler gets out of the car and Jacobi follows. They take an elevator up more floors than Jacobis apartment complex even has. While walking down the hall, Jacobi manages to trip over the pattern in the carpet, directly into Kepler. He opens his mouth to apologize profusely, but Kepler just rolls his eyes and holds him up with an arm around his waist. Kepler shifts him to pull his keys out of his coat, and then they’re walking into his apartment, which is easily the size of Jacobi’s and Maxwell’s put together, and much more furnished too.

“Wow, fancy.” 

Kepler scoffs at him and disappears into a side room, returning with a blanket and pillow. “Hope you like the couch.” He sets them down and then walks into his immaculate kitchen. Jacobi follows.

“That couch looks better than my actual bed.” Kepler’s lips quirk up into a smile. He walks across the fancy tile and opens a cabinet, pulling out a glass. Kepler pours himself a drink of something honey-brown and probably expensive, looking at Jacobi as he takes a sip.

“So… I didn’t know that you were still in the habit of getting wasted in your free time.”

“No, it’s not like that.” Jacobi looks at his feet. “I… I haven’t done anything like that in a long time.” He leans against one of the granite counter tops and Kepler crosses the room to lean next to him.

“Good. We’re not in Ohio anymore, I need you sharp and alert. No more drinking alone.” Jacobi sighs out his nose and pushes his glasses up to rub his eyes. He looks up at Kepler.

“Yeah, I know, and I wasn’t. I just, I was coming from Alana’s place.”

“A New Year’s Eve party, I presume?” He sets his glass down with a clink.

“Of sorts.”

“Well, Jacobi,” Kepler puts a hand on his shoulder. “Happy New Year.” Kepler’s kitchen is cold, but his hand is so, so warm. Jacobi’s mind flashes back to times like this, times when they’ve been this close. Sharing a bed in a shitty motel, treating each other’s wounds, crouched in the same hiding spot. Every time, he was always this warm. And every time, the same stupid thoughts had been running through Jacobi’s mind as the ones that are running through it now. The thought of reaching out, of crossing the line, of making contact. Something is different this time, though. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe Jacobi’s just feeling extra stupid tonight. Because this time, he thinks of reaching out, and he does it.

Jacobi’s hand hooks around the back of Kepler’s neck and pulls their lips together. There’s a split-second moment where’s Jacobi has actually managed to catch the Colonel off guard before Kepler’s kissing back wholeheartedly. Jacobi tries his best, but all that wine he had really isn’t doing him any good. It’s messy and really not all that good and he’s definitely not going to remember it in the morning. Jacobi breathes in sharply through his nose as Kepler’s hand threads through his short black hair. Kepler pushes him back and the counter top digs into Jacobi’s hips. One of them pulls away, Jacobi’s not sure who, and they stay there for a moment, catching their breath.

He smiles up at Kepler. “Happy New Year, sir.” And just like that, something breaks, and Kepler backs away. He won’t meet Jacobi’s eyes, but he revels in seeing the flush gracing Kepler’s cheekbones.

“Go to bed, Mister Jacobi.”

“Yes sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, this is so short I'm sorry, but they're horrible and I love them and I really just wanted to write something for them. If you wanna check me out, find me on tumblr [@plaguehaver](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/plague-haver) or my personal blog, [@thedominoswizard](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thedominoswizard)


End file.
